


A Palace Mistake

by Bopie98



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 11:46:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bopie98/pseuds/Bopie98
Summary: When Mishima accidentally gets taken to the metaverse it doesn't end well.





	A Palace Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little drabble I decided to post.

Akira raced through the palace, whispering frantic reassurances to the boy in his arms. It was an accident. It was just suppose to be a quick recon mission in Kaneshiro's palace. Nothing fancy. Nothing dangerous. Mishima moaned in pain and Akira felt his arm slip.

“No Mishima, you have to stay with me and keep pressure on that wound,” Akira said, his voice poorly hiding his panic. Mishima opened his eyes and smiled weakly.

“I really messed up this time didn't I?” Mishima asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't mean to follow you here; heck, I didn't even know I could follow you. But I was so excited to get the chance to see you in action I couldn't help myself.”

“It's all right Mishima, you don't have to explain yourself,” Akira replied. It all happened so fast it seemed like a blur. The Phantom Thieves were sneaking around the palace, trying to avoid a fight. While attempting to avoid a particularly aggressive shadow it was alerted by a noise coming from the hall behind them. At first they assumed it was a stroke of good luck. And then they heard the scream.

Akira's heart had stopped, not needing to see him to know who the scream belonged to. He was running before the others hand time to tell him to calm down. He found Mishima on the ground, bleeding from a wound in his side. He ambushed the shadow and defeated him quickly. After the shadow was taken care of Akira turned his full attention to Mishima. He lifted him up into his arms and began running toward the exit. He needed to get Mishima out of the palace. He needed to get Mishima safe.

Once they reached the entrance Akira knelt down, leaning Mishima against his side. He dug through his pocket and pulled out his phone, using the navigation app to return to the real world. The streets of Shibuya were quiet in the night. Akira looked around frantically for anyone to help, but when he didn't see anyone he carefully lifted Mishima back into his arms.

“Akira? It's cold,” Mishima mumbled, his eyes barely open.

“I'm going to get you somewhere warm soon, just stay with me,” Akira pleaded. He ran as fasat as he could to the nearest hospital, screaming for a doctor the moment he walked through the door. In seconds Mishima was taken away and Akira was left in the waiting room covered in blood that wasn't his.

He sat in a chair for what seemed like hours, vaguely aware people were trying to speak to him. He knew a few nurses and police officers were trying to ask him what happened, but all he could focus on was Mishima. Was he going to be okay? What if he wasn't? It was all his fault Mishima go caught up in the palace. Akira stared at his bloodstained hands, tears welling in his eyes. Mishima would be okay right? He couldn't die. Not now. Not like this.

“Akira?” Akira jumped at hearing his name and small hands enveloping his own. He looked up and met Dr. Takemi's eyes. “Is any of this blood yours?” Akira shook his head. Takemi nodded and looked around. “I've told the staff here I'm your primary physician and they have agreed to let me use a room to examine you.” Akira nodded again and Takemi gently pulled him to his feet. The two of them walked into an examination room and Takemi sat Akira down on the bed.

“You're friends called me. Did your other friend get hurt during your Phantom Thief activities?” she asked as she grabbed a couple of paper towels and ran them under water.

“Yes,” Akira replied softly, his voice cracking. Takemi sighed and sat in front of him, cleaning the blood of his hands. “Is Mishima going to be okay?”

“He's in surgery right now, but they're not telling me much because I'm not his doctor,” Takemi explained as she finished cleaning the blood off his skin. “I was able to convince the police to question you tomorrow to allow you to rest. That will give us enough time to formulate a believable story.”

“No, I have to go to him,” Akira said. As he attemped to get up Takemi put her hand on his chest, gently but forcefully pushing him back down.

“No, you need to rest. I will keep tabs on your friend,” she replied, her voice firm.

“but it's all my fault! I need to see him,” Akira argued, the volume of his voice increasing.

“You're in shock and not thinking straight,” Takemi shot back. Akira ignored her and stood up, ready to push her to the side. Bu the time he registered the needle piercing his skin it was too late. He grabbed onto Takemi's shoulders as his legs gave out under him, tears streaming down his face.

“It's all my fault. Mishima could die and it's all my fault,” Akira cried as the drug consumed his consciousness.

Akira woke up slowly hours later. His mind was clouded and for a moment he forgot where he was. He looked around and found Ryuji, Ann, and Makoto asleep in various places around the room. Ann was on the chair, her head resting on the bed. Makoto was on a small couch in the room and Ryuji was on the floor. Akira sat up carefully, not wanting to wake his friends, but despite he best efforts Ann sat up rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Akira?” she asked, her voice still tired. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. How is Mishima?” Akira answered.

“He's resting him his room. The doctor said he was lucky since the wound didn't hit anything vital,” Makoto explained as she sat up. “What happened? You ran off so fast we didn't have a chance to catch up.”

“I heard him scream and I panicked,” Akira admitted. “When I got to him there was so much blood already. I didn't have time to wait for you.”

“That makes sense. We didn't initially come in to the hospital to avoice getting involved in whaatever story you two are going to tell the authorities. Too many people could lead to accidental inconsistencies,” Makoto explaied.

“Ryuji could barely hold himself back from following you,” Ann said. Ryuji glared at her and Akira smiled slightly. He pushed himself off the bed and stood up, leaning on the bed rail. He was still a little unstable at first, but he quickly found his balance. “Where are you going?”

“I have to see him,” akira answered. The other three nodded and Akira slipped out of his room, avoiding the nurses and doctors easily. He quietly entered Mishima's room and felt tears spring into his eyes upon seeing him. Mishima was frightfully pale and hooked up to so many machines. Akira walked over and sat next to the bed, taking Mishima's hand in his.

He sat like that for hours, holding Mishima's hand and whispering assurances to him. When Mishima opened his eyes Akira nearly cried out in relief. Mishima opened his mouth to say something, but ended up coughing instead. Akira stood up and grabbed some water while helping Mishima sit up. He helped him drink the water while gently rubbing his back.

“Thank you,” Mishima said as Akira eased him back down on the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Akira asked, his eyes gleaming with worry.

“Sore, but okay,” Mishima replied with a shy smile.

“I'm so sorry Mishima,” Akira said, tears returning to his eyes. Mishima reached up and placed his palm against Akira's cheek. Akira leaned into the touch, placing his own hand over his.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who went somewhere I didn't belong,” Mishima murmured, using his thumb to wipe away a tear.

“You belong anywhere I am,” Akira replied. Mishima smiled, tears welling in his own eyes. Akira leaned forward and pressed his lips to Mishima's. The kiss was gentle at first, but Mishima pushed for more passion. The more Akira tried to back off in respect of Mishima's injury, the hungrier Mishima got. When Akira broke off the kiss Mishima had one hand grabbing the back of Akira's neck, the other underneath his shirt. Akira chuckled as Mishima quickly pulled his hand back, his cheeks red.

“I'm glad you're feeling okay,” Akira said, sitting back down. Mishima held Akira's hand smiling brightly.

“Hey, do you know where my phone is? I'm falling behind on the Phan-site as speak.”


End file.
